


I'm an astronaut (and my next mission is to go to Uranus.)

by ellimau



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: French!Harry, M/M, because perfection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellimau/pseuds/ellimau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>larry au in which harry owns a book store in paris and louis just needed to get a way for a while.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	I'm an astronaut (and my next mission is to go to Uranus.)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tia. x](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tia.+x).



> first part of the amusant short story/three shot.

"Paris," his mother repeated and buried her head in her hands.

It was a sunny day in London, England that Louis Tomlinson had declared his sudden news to his family. He was moving to France in the blink of an eye. It was all out of pure impulse, no brain involved whatsoever. Louis knew that it was surprising and scary and incredibly _stupid_ , but it was a mistake to be made by him if that would be the case. No one else could influence this decision because Louis was Louis, and Louis was stubborn.

"It's not like it's another continent, it's fine, really," Louis had said and shrugged it off. Paris wasn't a big deal, it really wasn't. It was just Paris, a city in a country in Europe that happened to be beautiful.

"It's so far away, Lou. I- why?" His mother spoke again.

"It's complicated. I mean, I just want to get away, I guess."

And that was that. There was no point in denying that Louis needed space to breathe and maybe eat some new food and get to know some people that wouldn't let him down for front row seats at a footie game.

Okay, so maybe he was being a tad over dramatic. He always had been and most likely always will be. Joining drama club when he was fifteen had helped, but then getting kicked out after a _slight_ disagreement didn’t give him any progress, but that’s not actually relevant right now.

Louis honestly didn't know when the decision came to him. Germany would've made more sense, he could speak the language at least - even if it probably didn't sound very good at all. And maybe Spain would've been great as well, since Spanish guys is such a turn on. It's not even funny. But no. Paris, France it is.

So Louis sat on a plane on his way to Paris with his little french hat that he never remembers the name of and that book that was supposed to teach him some french words (which was really useless, because Louis and foreign languages isn't a good match.)

His mother had made sure to give him a big, warm hug at the airport, telling him to be back as soon as possible and he told her he would, since that would calm her down. Just like the lie about having found a fantastic job and great flat and a life that wouldn't worry her. 

It calmed her down, that's the point, right?

And he had the money. Like, Louis was rich as fuck for a twenty-five year old and living a while in Paris without job was no big deal at all. But, Louis, to some extent, fancied working quite lot and being bored to death isn't really something he wanted right now. So the sweet f.a. thing wouldn’t suit him at all.

That was it. He was perhaps soon there after _almost_ throwing up from taking off and then feeling profoundly embarrassed, because there was an old lady next to him who was looking rather disturbed.

No biggie.

And as the plane was landing, Louis was surely in his own world up until he saw the lights of Paris shining under him like nothing he had ever seen before. Maybe he'd hate to admit that it was just the airport lights and they were closer to ground than he thought they were , but still - it was a new and fresh and _adventurous_ , which had never really been associated with Louis.

Once he actually got of that _god damn_ plane he realized that the airport itself was huge. He felt lost just from looking at the people running around like crazy teens at a Justin Bieber concert (that he most certainly haven't gone to just because his sister didn't have anyone to go with.). Louis didn't know what to accept from Paris after that experience.

All around him the language was royally thrown at others in conversation. Here and there you could hear the occasional speakers croaking out poorly pronounced English words or strangers that spoke with his own language. But he was mostly concentrating on the things that he couldn't relate to.

He may have been lost physically a few times as well, let's not even mention that.

So, after finally leaving _Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport_ , that he couldn't even pronounce let alone find his way around, he rested his head against the cold window of a taxi. The rain prickled against it with no hesitant feelings, as the ones he had, and he watched it carefully while trying to absorb some sort of calm.

He had already decided against calling his mother and settled with sending her a quick text saying that he was safe and sound back at a hotel - also a lie to comfort her, but he wasn't that far away and it wouldn't hurt her in another country, really.

And after all, he did get to the hotel that he had looked up on Google before leaving. It was nice, for sure, and the room he ended up with was more than enough for him after all the shitty flats he's been through in London with Nick and Colette.

Was it all really that bad?

 

\---------

 

Louis, the proper and awful tourist he is, decided to at least explore a bit the next day (after sleeping forever and eating the latest breakfast of his life, that is.) He was a bit fucked at this point, though. He was in some narrow part of Paris with small streets and not a lot of people, which he wouldn't like to admit; scared him a little bit.

It was getting late as well, like, dinner-time-late and Louis didn't know whether to sit down and cry from not being at home and _fuck_ he really shouldn't have done this, or use Google to ask some stupid French lad for directions to a place that at least looked familiar - which nothing did right now.

After walking past the same sign for like the 100th time, because let's be honest - that's what it felt like right about now, he stopped and sighed. To him his sigh of frustration sounded an awful lot like _I hate this shit so much_ or _why am I a stupid twat that is too far up his own arse to realize that you can't go to Paris without a fucking plan._

Honestly.

"Excusez-moi, monsieur," someone tried communicating and after that Louis wasn’t even close to understanding what he was saying, because all Louis could see was pink lips (way too big for the bloke's face) moving and a mix of French being thrown at his face and Louis really regrets choosing German over French at school.

"Monsieur?" the man tried again with a more questioning manner and Louis starts thinking that maybe he should say something like _I don't speak French_ or _you're really pretty_ because the boy himself is a French masterpiece that should hang on every person's wall in the whole freaking universe.

"Anglais?" Louis tried, the man still looking quite confused. "Parlez... v-vouz… Anglais?" And Louis took the man's smile as a _yes, I do speak English_ and not a _what the hell, mate_ because Louis could be saying something like _fuck me in the arse_ and he wouldn't have a clue.

"Yes," he then said. "Are you lost? You've walked past the store a lot and I'm pretty sure the people sitting at the restaurant across the street are finding it hilarious."

Louis looked across the narrow street and sure enough people turned their heads quickly and tried hiding the laughter from behind the windows. Just great.

"Yeah, em, I don't know, exactly. I was planning on eating something, but then I realized that I've only got pounds with me and my hotel is nowhere around here and- I don't know you, I'm sorry." _Great job, Louis_.

"C'est pas grave, don't worry. You have a beautiful voice, I don't mind listening," he said and no, that most certainly didn't make Louis slightly flushed and charmed off his feet at the same time.

"You too, I guess," Louis responded and maybe he did look around for hidden cameras for some TV show, but he didn’t spot anything and he was happy that the beautiful boy wanted to talk to him due to his own will.

"Me? With this accent, non, non, mon petit," the stranger said with a chuckle and Louis didn't know French, at all. But he was pretty sure _petit_ was the same thing as-

"Did you just call me _small_?"

"Well, you are quite... _petite._ "

And he knew he should mind it. Louis _should_ be offended and he most certainly _should_ get angry, but he just isn't or doesn't, because the stranger is tall and fit and cute and yeah, Louis likes that too much to care.

"Come on, I will help you."

No, Louis didn't mind at all.

 

"So, you own this place?" Louis said walking around the bookstore, touching everything lightly with his fingers and breathing in the smell of old and fresh and simply vintage.

"Oui, ça te plait? Yes, do you like it?" Harry, that's the stranger's name, asked and started searching for something behind the counter.

"Very much so," Louis said, feeling more than slightly awkward and a little out of place since he's in Paris with a beautiful stranger named Harry and if that's not odd then he doesn't know what is.

"So, Louis, why are you lost in Paris this beau evening?" Harry wondered curiously, picking up a small, folded piece of paper that he started unfolding on the countertop.

Louis, who was still admiring all the literature screaming out love and friendship and history that just surrounded him with French words and beautifulness, stopped to turn and look at him.

"It's a long story," Louis mumbled in a quiet voice and looked away from the green irises again.

"Like I said, you have a beautiful voice, I don't mind listening."

Louis didn't want to tell him. He didn't want this stranger to know his life story and listen to everything in Louis' life that made him go to Paris and end up in this bookstore. There wasn't even a reason, it was just all of it thrown together in one big pile of nothingness.

"No it's- well, just complicated, I guess. A lot of things, you know?"

"I have problems too, mon chaton, but you don't see me running off to another country getting help from a stranger." Harry had stopped with the unfolding and Louis could see a map being revealed on the wooden board. "Now, where are you heading?"

"My hotel probably, hopefully the restaurant is open there so they can put it on my room."

"Well, j'ai faim, so I can take you out for a bite if you'd like," Harry said and Louis honestly didn't know what those first few words meant, but he just offered to take Louis out for dinner and who was Louis to turn him down?

"As long as I don't have to eat snails," Louis pointed out.

"Honestly, they are very overrated."

 

That's how Louis ended up in a cozy restaurant in Paris with Harry, laughing at some awful jokes and drinking fruity dessert wine along with eating this moan-worthy cheesecake. 

"I swear, you're twelve," Louis said, smiling of course, and plopping the blueberry left on the plate into his mouth.

"Non, it's _amusant_ , funny," Harry tried convincing him and smiled back.

"It's a very dirty pickup-line and I will not admit to finding it _amusant_." Okay, so Louis' French accent was rubbish, but it was meant to be playful and taunting and Harry only laughed at him.

"One day you will, mon chéri." Harry seriously needed to stop (continue) with the pet-names, because Louis was confused and really touched. Maybe he should call Harry _sweetheart._ Except, that would be weird.

"You could literally hear the that's what she said in it," Louis scoffed and took another zip of the sweet wine.

"Alright then, tell me a good one, mister innocent," Harry insisted and leaned back in his chair a bit. Louis thought for a few seconds, searching that part of his head that consisted of funny things. (an empty pit , since Louis wasn't that funny in general.)

Louis moved one finger, urging Harry to lean in closer. So Harry put his face just in front of Louis' and in a whisper Louis told him;

" _I'm an Astronaut and my next mission is to go to Uranus._ "

And maybe Harry found that amusant.

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to Tia, because she helped me with the French translations. thank you, love.


End file.
